1675
I now pass over to the year 1675. About the beginning whereof G. Fox came to London, whilst the parliament was sitting, who advised the king to the suppressing of the growth of popery; but in the meanwhile the Quakers bore the chiefest shock; for their religious meetings were styled seditious conventicles.
After G. Fox had been at the yearly-meeting of his friends at London, he left the city, and went to Lancaster, and from thence to Swarthmore, where having a dwelling-place of his own, he staid about two years to rest himself: having contracted distempers by hardships and imprisonments, which had much weakened his body. Being there, he understood that four young students at Aberdeen were convinced at a dispute held by Robert Barclay and George Keith, with some of the scholars of that university. And being visited by some of the neighbourhood, among others came also to him colonel Kirby, his old persecutor, who now carried himself very lovingly, and bid him welcome into the country. Yet notwithstanding this appearance of kindness, sometime afterwards he ordered the constables of Ulverstone to tell G. Fox, that they must have no more meetings at Swarthmore, for if they had, they were commanded by him to break them up; and they were to come the next Sunday after. But this threatening did not make G. F. afraid; for he, with his friends, had a meeting on that First day of the week, and none came to disturb them. During his abode at home, when he did not travel to and fro in the country, as he used to do, to edify his friends by his ministry, he supplied this with his pen, and exhorted them by writing, where he could not do it by word of mouth: besides he wrote other serviceable treatises, for he was a diligent man.
In the meanwhile persecution for the worship of God did not cease altogether: the act against seditious conventicles gave opportunity to the malicious to disturb the religious meetings of the Quakers, who never met in a clandestine manner, but always publicly: and on this account fines were extorted from them; to which may be added, that oftentimes they were still very ill treated, and most grievously abused, as among the rest at Long Clawston in Leicestershire, where some women were dragged by the neck along the street; and among these a widow, the skin of whose neck was rubbed off by this rudeness; and an ancient woman, above seventy, was violently cast down to the ground. Some of the men were dragged by the hair, and others by their legs, besides the many blows given them: and some were trodden upon till the blood gushed out of their mouth and nose. Yet all this they bore patiently, without making any resistance; whereby it happened sometimes that some who had not the gift of preaching, reached others by their patient suffering; showing by their meek behaviour, that their works did agree with their Christian profession: and though many were robbed of all they had, even clothes and beds not excepted, yet they continued steadfast without fainting; though often it was called a meeting when some were come together, not properly to perform religious worship, as hath been related already.
At Kirby Muckloe, where some were come to the house of John Penford, to provide for their poor, the priest of the parish, called John Dixon, informed against them by letter to Wenlock Stanly of Branston, who sent three of his servants to take inspection of the said meeting; and though these looking into the book, in which the charitable distributions were entered, found that this meeting had been only to consider of the necessities of the poor, yet several were fined, and Penford himself twenty pounds for his house, and ten pounds for the preacher, when there was never any one there; but they having heard him speak, this was counted sufficient to make him pass for a preacher. Now though he and Richard Woodland appealed for justice, yet the court positively denied their appeal, unless they would first take the oath of allegiance. This was the old snare, so that the hearing of the matter was denied, and treble damage given against them.
At Lewes in Sussex, the priest, William Snat, became himself an informer, and went several times to the Quakers’ meeting there; and from thence to the justice Henry Shully, to whom he declared on oath, in whose house the meeting had been, and who had preached; and this was so gross, that once he gave a false information with respect to the house; but the gain proceeding from this work, how abominable soever, did shine so alluringly, that his kinsman, James Clark, entered upon this informer’s office: which any one could easily do, without making suit for it.
In Norfolk, the rage of the persecutors was such, that some having been bereaved of all, were obliged, even in winter time, (as amongst the rest, Joseph Harrison, with his wife and children,) to lie on straw; and yet they, unwearied, did not leave frequenting their religious meeting; nay, even the dead were not suffered to rest, for outrageous barbarity came to that pitch, that Mary, the wife of Francis Larder, being dead and buried, was, by order of one Thomas Bretland, dug up again, whereby the coffin was broken, which they tied together, and carrying it away, exposed the corpse in the market-place. Thus this deceased woman was no more suffered to lie quiet in her grave, than in her sick bed, where the day before her death, she had been threatened by order of one Christopher Bedinfield, to have her bed taken from under her while living. Now the reason of thus taking up the corpse was, that though her husband was one of those called Quakers, yet she not being properly a member of that society, it was taken ill that she had been buried in a plain way, without paying to the priest his pretended due, for the ordinary service over the dead.
In Somersetshire thirty-two persons were fined for having been at a burial. The like happened in the county of Derby, where Samuel Roe, (his wife being deceased,) was fined twenty pounds, because his friends met in his house to conduct the corpse to the grave. Of this the priest, John Wilson, was informer to the justice of peace, John Loe; and out of the house of the said Samuel Roe, was taken the value of thirty pounds; so that the share of the informer was no less than ten pounds; since according to law, his due was a third of the spoil. I could here relate several instances of great adversities, and sad mischiefs that befel cruel persecutors; but not to expatiate too far, I have silently passed by many remarkable cases.
Yet, in general terms I may say, that many of the persecutors, both justices, informers, and others, came to a miserable end: some being by sudden, or unnatural death, and others by lingering sicknesses, or distempers, or by foul and stinking diseases, taken out of this life; whilst some, who by spoil had scraped much together, fell to great poverty and beggary; whose names I could set down, and mention also time and place; and among these some rapacious ecclesiastics, who came to a sad end; but I studiously omit particularizing such instances, to avoid the appearance of grudging and envy. Some of those that had been so active in spoil, signified themselves the terrible remorse of conscience they felt, because of their having persecuted the Quakers; insomuch, that they roared out their gnawing grief, mixed with despair, under the grievous pains they suffered in their body. And it was judged by many a very remarkable case, that one Christopher Glin, priest at Burford, who had acted with a very indiscreet zeal against the Quakers, having about the year 1663, read his text in the pulpit, and then intending to read his sermon, was on a sudden struck with blindness, and continued blind till he died. But none of the persecutors seemed to take notice, or to regard such instances; for they let their rage loose against the Quakers; who, for all that continued in patience, though they did not think it unlawful to give notice of the grievous oppression their friends suffered, to those that were in authority; lest they might have excused themselves as ignorant of these violent proceedings. Therefore it was not omitted to publish in public print, many of those crying instances that have been related here, and to present them to the king and parliament, with humble addresses to that purpose. But all this found but small entrance. King Charles it seems was not to be the man that should take off this yoke of oppression; this work was reserved for others. His brother James that succeeded him, made a beginning thereof, with what intention Heaven knows; and William III. that excellent prince, brought it to perfection as far as it was in his power.
This year deceased at sea William Bayly, coming from the West Indies, in the ship called the Samuel, of London, in the latitude of 46 degrees and 36 minutes: he had been a teacher among the Baptists, and had read much in the books of Jacob Behmen, but could not find thereby true satisfaction to his soul. And being afterwards entered into society with the Quakers, so called, he became a zealous preacher among them. When in this his last voyage he was grown sick, and felt death approaching, he bid John Clark, master of the said vessel, remember him to his dear wife and little ones, and also to G. Fox, G. Whitehead and others; and being filled with joy, began to sing, saying, ‘The creating word of the Lord endures for ever.’ He took several that were about him by the hand, and exhorted them to fear the Lord, and not to fear death: ‘Death,’ said he, ‘is nothing in itself; for the sting of death is sin. Tell the Friends at London, that would have been glad to have seen my face, I go to my Father and their Father, to my God and their God. Remember my love to my dear wife; she will be a sorrowful widow: but let her not mourn too much, for it is well with me.’ And having spoken something concerning his outward business to the master, he said in regard to his wife and children, ‘I have left them no portions, but my endeavour hath been to make God their father. Shall I lay down my head upon the waters? Well, God is the God of the whole universe; and though my body sink, I shall swim atop of the waters.’ Then taking his leave of the company, he said, ‘I see not one of you, but I wish you all well.’ And one asking, how it was with him? he answered, ‘I am perfectly well.’ After having spoken many more sensible words, about four in the morning he departed quietly, as if he had fallen asleep. His wife Mary, the same that had formerly been at Adrianople, and spoken with the emperor of the Turks, gave an excellent testimony in writing concerning him; and J. Crook, in a preface to W. Bayly’s works, said of him, (the truth of which I know by my own experience,) ‘As he was bold and zealous in his preaching, being willing to improve his time, as if he had known it was not to be long amongst us; so was he as valiant in suffering for his testimony, when called thereunto. Methinks I see how once I saw him stand at the bar to plead his innocent cause, like holy Stephen, in the senate-house, when the threats of his persecutors resembled the showers of stones, falling upon that blessed martyr, crying out with a hideous noise, ‘take him away, jailer,’ &c. and yet all this while he changed not his countenance, except by the additional ornaments of some innocent smiles. Sometimes by cruel persecutors he hath been thrown down, and dragged upon the ground by the hair of his head, and his mouth and jaws endeavoured to be rent and broke asunder, so that the ground whereon he lay was smeared with his blood: yet, as if this butchering had not been enough to make him a fit sacrifice for the shambles of their cruelty, a heavy gross bodied persecutor stamped upon his breast with his feet, endeavouring to beat the breath out of his body: and when this persecutor had done his pleasure, he commanded the jailer to take him away, and put him in some nasty hole for his entertainment and cure. And had not the God of Israel been his physician there, he had been taken from us long before this.’ Thus far John Crook.
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